


Blushes

by Kinns



Category: Football RPF
Genre: 5+1 Things, Blushing, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff and Humor, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship / Flirting / Thinking of You Fest, Friendship/Love, Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-14
Updated: 2018-09-14
Packaged: 2019-07-12 00:54:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,602
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15984128
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinns/pseuds/Kinns
Summary: Or : How to fall in love with Benjamin, by BenjaminFive times Ben thinks that blushing suits Benji and that he would like to kiss him. + 1 he doesn't.





	Blushes

The first time Ben thinks about it, they have just arrived at Clairefontaine for the World Cup. They are in subgroups to train with each other for two hours, and he's with all the other defenders, in circle; Presnel, who is leaning against him, Lucas, Pavard, Raphael, Adil, Samuel and Djibril. Each week, one of them manages the training session; now is Raphael's turn, after it will be Lucas', Presnel's, then his.

 

The coach has decided to set up this system to prevent them train by clan, Ben understands the idea and approves. As soon as he arrived on the team, he immediately turned to Paul, his partner of Manchester, then Samuel, Blaise, and the others. Actually, without that, he would have had more trouble going to discrete guys like the other Benjamin.

 

One day, Presnel joked about it saying it was their daily life and that nobody cared, but if a Caucasian was in the same situation, it had to be solved immediately. This joke remained in his mind all day.

 

"It's a shame we cannot listen to music."

 

Ben chuckles at Presnel's whispered comment. This guy is just music and joke, he likes him too much.

 

"What's for?" He replies in the same tone, pretending to listen to Raph. "If it's to see you moving your big ass in your panties, not worth it. Why didn’t you put on your official shorts?"

 

Presnel smirks condescendingly, as if it's obvious.

 

"Because I hate to feel something float on my thighs."

"So it's mold-dick or pants? The guy overreacting."

"Nobody has ever complained in PSG..."

 

Ben refrains from laughing and puts his hand in front of his mouth, looking falsely focused.

 

"Anyway," Kim continues, "There are only shorts and pants which put this wonderful ass in value. I don’t spend so much time doing squats to hide this artwork."

 

He bursts out laughing, letting himself fall on Presnel, who is also snorting. Raphael’s disapproving gaze calms them down quickly and the two culprits get together, trying to look wise.

 

Ben loves this pretentious music lover.

 

After the last instructions, they get up to be in couple, but when Presnel gives him a hug because they form a good duet, Raphael doesn't miss them:

 

"No, you have to switch groups. Presnel, you go with Lucas. The Benjamins, together. Samuel, with me. Adil, do you mind putting yourself with Djibril?"

"Divide to better rule, right?" Presnel replies, out of pure spirit of contradiction. “Lucas is my blood, my brother from another mother, we're going to smash everything."

 

The two boys clap their hands, bump their shoulders and lower their joined handles with a sound of approval over played. Ben chuckles at seeing this masquerade. Together, it's him who trains Kim, but put these two as a team? Even worse: the exercises will be done for sure, but they will make jokes to everyone and be noisy like fifteen.

 

“Enjoy as long as we're not the ones in charge," Kimpembe continues, "Because starting Monday: music..."

"Music!" Lucas repeats, yelling.

"Speaker."

"Speaker!"

"And squats!"

"Squats!"

 

They clap themselves again in the hand, too proud of their aftershocks. Ben laughs crossing his arms, clearly amused by these two idiots.

 

"Don't you worry Shark, you'll be allowed to touch this super ass soon."

"No, no, I absolutely don’t need it."

"Your loss is someone else's gain."

 

Presnel calls Alphonse to drop on him by letting go of a "they are making fun of these beautiful buttocks!" In a plaintive tone, which makes others laugh.

 

Joking enough, get back to work, Ben thinks.

 

Looking back in search of his partner, he almost overthrows him and immediately steps back; he didn't even hear him coming!

 

"Hey Pavard, ready to sweat like never?"

"With you, always."

 

Mendy frowns, then smiles on the surface, but deep inside he bugs. Because, he hallucinated, right? Little Benji couldn’t tell him that, not with that look and intonation.

 

He must have dreamed.

 

"Go, stretch, let's go!"

 

They begin to warm up by stretching their body; head, neck, shoulders, elbows, hands, hips, knees, ankles. Ben sits down on the floor, clutching his feet, and Pavard presses on his back to stretch as far as possible and works his flexibility.

 

Come Benjamin Two’s turn, who has surprisingly no flexibility. Ben laughs at this:

 

"Come on Pavard, do your best: lower!"

"I can’t...,” the younger complains, breathless.

"Go on, you still have fifteen seconds."

"You already said that a minute ago!"

 

After two more seconds, Ben agrees to release him and helps him to straighten slowly so he doesn’t crunch any muscle. He drops himself sitting next to him, but laughs at seeing his red tomato face.

 

The curly boy slaps him in the arm, a smile on his lips:

 

"What’s wrong?"

"You have a stop sign head, it's too funny!"

 

Mendy snorts nicely because he shouldn’t be in this state after stretching, that's ridiculous. Maybe he's just embarrassed to get in touch with someone he doesn’t talk to often? He really doesn’t understand the blushes, it's decided.

 

This time Pavard holds his arm to get his attention.

 

"Do you like it?"

"What?"

"Is stop sign head your type?"

 

Ben feels his fear emanate from him and almost hears his heart beating at full speed. If his smile freezes the first seconds, his face eventually melts at his partner's remark.

 

"Oww Benji!"

 

Ben embraces his waist, letting himself fall on him. This little one doesn't lack balls.

 

"Men mountain!"

 

Immediately after the yell, Lucas and Presnel jump on them, followed by Samuel, Paul, Antoine and other hilarious idiots. Ben laughs, trying to protect his little _Jeff Tuche_ as best he can. Their heap looks like nothing, they all fall to the side, laughing and noisy.

 

When they have finished laughing, they get up and go back to their corner to continue their activities. Ben stands up with a small amused smile and looks at his namesake lying on the ground.

 

"I almost died choking because of you," he accuses.

 

There is no aggression in his voice, nor reproach. Ben drops on his stomach without warning, attracting a stifled complaint.

 

"You're a heavyweight...”

 

Mendy leans on his elbow and then on his fist to observe that blushing face, which gives him a warm smile.

 

As Paul plate Antoine further, Ben thinks it _might not_ bother to kiss him.

 

×××

 

They are still in Clairefontaine when Ben feels that way again.

 

"I miss Julian, I can’t wait to return to PSG."

 

The training has just finished and as usual, Presnel sticks to his ass. Ben loves this little one, but he didn’t sign to be his diary. They are back from showers, less than an hour and they can go eat something. In the meantime, many players have returned to their room, others wait in the common room and the laziest haven’t left the gym.

 

Obviously, Presnel and him are big shambles since they just let themselves slip on the ground, leaning against rigid foam equipment.

 

"Just put some music on," Ben responds flatly.

"I hope his training is going well. Do you think he'll play?"

 

It's pointless, Presnel's started to talk without worrying about being listened to. Ben rolls his eyes at this thought, he knew he should have taken his cell phone.

 

"Hum."

"Yeah, he's going to do great things, my little Jules. I want to call him, do you think he's done?"

"Why don’t you do squats, it'll occupy you."

"No you're right, the Deutsch are the kind to overtrain, I'll send him a text instead."

 

Orh, it’s like pissing into the wind when Kim is in this state.

 

The only thing that reassures and entertains him is Benjamin Two who has been playing with a ball since a while ago. They aren’t supposed to exceed their prescribed daily sport quota, but in theory juggles don’t really tire and no one is going to snitch it to fitness trainers.

 

The thing is, he's been training with the attackers' equipment and doing their exercises for almost fifteen minutes.

 

"Oh, he's answered my text!"

 

Presnel won’t even notice his absence anyway.

 

Mendy gets up to get close to Pavard, without making any noise so as not to disturb him. Obviously, it's a failure since Benji turns to him on hearing him and smiles despite his blushing face. It must be red because of his exhaustion, funny.

 

"You know our equipment is on the other side, right?"

 

Benji shyly shrugs under his gaze that he knows mean (he doesn’t do it on purpose, he swears!), before sighing and wiping his face with his shirt. With a sigh, he spills the beans:

 

"Have you ever wanted to change your playing position?"

 

Like all kids, he dreamed of being a forwards and scoring goals, but Ben prefers to sit back and he knows he excels at pushing the offensive. His defender position suits him, he doesn’t have to complain for a second.

 

"Not really, no."

"You know Ben, I never wanted to play in defense," the curly boy admits.

 

He’s serious and whispers, as if to keep it a secret between them. Everything in his brown eyes and posture show Mendy that he’s focused on him and no one else. He didn’t realize he had enough trust to reveal something personal to him.

 

In narrowing his eyes and putting his hands against his hips, he is listening:

 

"What do you mean?"

"I was training to be a forwards at the beginning, then as I was very good in defense too, I was placed there. One thing leading to another, here I am in the French team, always at this position."

 

He seems to have resigned himself to all that, it's really sad for him. Something like that should not happen, which coach takes advantage of his player's abilities to put him to a position where he doesn’t want to evolve? Well, how to complain when he managed to land in the national team, where abybany would fight for his position?

 

"I am happy to be good and helpful, but I would love to cross the pitch to put at least one goal."

 

Mendy doesn’t know what to say to him, because the defense isn’t supposed to camp on the part of the adversary.

 

"Lucas too would like to be a forwards."

 

The bubble in which he didn’t know they were, bursts out at Presnel's voice. The two young men turn to the defender, who is still on his cell phone. How could he hear them where he is when he doesn’t even listen to Mendy when he talks to him?

 

The sentence thrown like that gives him an idea directly:

 

"But why don’t you talk to Guy? You two want to be forwards, it can be cool! Because, do you imagine the number of occasions that it can lead if you prepare with the forwards?

 

Benji looks at him with sparkling eyes of hope and an encouraging smile.

 

“You think it's going to work?”

“Of course, man! Go see Guy with Lucas, it'll work!”

 

Against all odds, Benji trembles so much joy at the idea that he jumps on him and Mendy catches him despite his surprise to make him turn. As they laugh, he drops him on the floor, then taps his curly head.

 

"Come on, go get Lucas. With your two adorable heads, the coach can give you everything."

 

After a laugh, Pavard runs off in search of the other defender. Mendy smiles at this sight.

 

"Be careful," Presnel comments always on his mobile, "one might think you like the kid."

"Shut up, you mold-dick, you rather focus on Julian's ass."

"That's what I'm doing, Shark. Or rather Shrek seen your ugly dirty face!"

 

Ben loves Kimpembe, but he's still going to break his leg.

 

×××

 

They have been in Russia for two weeks when Ben gets closer to Benji.

 

The diet of an athlete is very strict and their weight gain is much controlled: they deprive themselves of many things for that. Mendy knows it's for their good, so he blindly complies 98% of the time.

 

The only times he forgets the rules is during his nightly cravings. It's a bad habit that he cannot lose. When he was little, Benjamin ate anything in his parents' fridge, the only noticeable change is that he now eats what is prescribed by the doctor. Good point, right?

 

In any case, Ben wakes up in the middle of the night because of his gurgling belly and goes directly to the kitchen.

 

(Normally they shouldn't have access to the kitchens, but they were many to ask the doctor to be able to eat fresh or after the others, so he talked about it to Guy, who went to see Didier, who asked for that, and so on and on.

 

"You really are kids," Didier told them the next day.

 

Nobody answered. Then Paul started arguing with his boyfriend saying "Hey this is my balloon! Coach, Antoine, he's stolen my stuff!” in a childlike voice. Antoine outbid "No it's not true, you gave it to me!", Then a good part of the group got started.

 

Didier laughed, but said nothing more.)

 

Arrived at the desired place, Ben frowns seeing that someone is already there. The curled hair under the hood barely put allows him to recognize Pavard, who looks up at him. After taking a small fruit salad in the fridge with a medium spoon, Ben settles on the soft and rounded chair in front of him.

 

"Well _Two_ , did you fall out of bed or what?"

 

Benji laughs at the nickname by leaning against the edge to give him all his attention.

 

"No, but I have troubles to sleep."

 

Ben frowns as he stuffs a spoon into his mouth. He didn’t know that someone on the team had trouble sleeping.

 

"Insomnia?" He asks, his mouth full.

 

It's not polite, he knows. Benji has the decency to say nothing about that.

 

"No, not at all, I sleep well. Actually, I sleep seven hours straight, then I wake up and can't go back to sleep."

"Oh you're right: you went to bed early yesterday."

"Yeah, here I am awake since an hour."

 

Damn, it's only five o'clock. Mendy can wake up even three times in the night and gets back to sleep without any problem, poor Benji.

 

"What about you?" The curly boy asks compassionately.

"I was starving."

 

Pavard bursts out laughing. It suits him well.

 

"Everybody has problems," he said finally.

"What are you going to do?"

 

Ben continues to eat, thinking fast, while Benji stares the ceiling.

 

"I don't know yet, it's a little early to train. Funny thing, because Antoine also came here to take something for Paul half an hour ago."

 

Ha. Somebody had a restless night.

 

"Jeff, you have a switch, right?"

"Yes why?"

"Go look for it, we will play together."

 

The curly boy’s eyes open in surprise and he shakes his head quickly, embarrassed.

 

"Dude, no, go to sleep, don’t worry about me."

"I'll sleep a little more tonight, especially since we don’t have any game today, it's fine,” Ben answers with conviction.

"You're sure?”

"Yes don't worry. We'll go to my room, like that the staff members won't notice we didn't sleep."

 

Their hours of sleep are also monitored, it's not easy every day.

 

After washing his bowl, the Benjamins return to their room, then settle in Mendy's bed when Pavard has taken his console. They get on both ends when they start playing.

 

If at first Benji settled at the end of the bed trying to take up the least space, when the alarm clock rings, he lies down by his side, leaning on his forearms, while he himself is on the back.

 

They look at each other before laughing because of the improbable situation. Pavard has a red face because of that, but it's a pleasant sight. Their laughter is silent when their eyes meet again, and Mendy struggles to swallow. Benji would have to bend down to him for...

 

“Mendy! Wake up!”

 

The knocks at the door make them jump and move away immediately. The heart beating fast, the big defender advances to the entrance to open to Kylian, who looks far too well in the morning for the common good.

 

"Not so bad, usually you take more time!"

"Did you wake Presko up?"

"Do you hear music?"

 

Ben listens, but nothing at all.

 

"No."

"You have your answer. It's Benji's turn to wake him up today. I'm waiting for you downstairs."

"Okay."

 

With a big smile, Kylian leaves and Ben closes the door. When he meets Benji's guilty gaze, they burst out laughing. This situation is ridiculous.

 

"Haven't you forgotten to wake someone up?"

"Shit, I gotta go!"

 

The curly boy jumps from his bed and leaves the room quickly. Mendy laughs again, before meeting Paul's complicit look coming out of Antoine's room.

 

"Good catch Shark."

'That's not..."

"Aaaand I don't wanna know. But good catch."

 

He gives him a huge wink, before moving towards the self. Mendy sighs, then scratches his head. It didn't happen, right? It's impossible. What would have happened if Kylian hadn't knocked?

 

The only answer that comes to mind is the most terrifying and enjoyable. If Kylian hadn't come, would Benji have kissed him? If it had happened, Ben isn’t even sure he would have rejected him.

 

×××

 

The fourth time, Ben wants to put that on the account of the euphoria.

 

At the final whistle, they are crowned world champions. Twenty years later, it’s time for triumph and they all shout with joy, relief and their hearts explode in their chests. Presnel jumps on him screaming, then they run together to meet their teammates to enjoy this unique moment as one person.

 

They are champions of the world!

 

They laugh and scream with contentment, impossible to hide what they feel, even for him who express little. They embrace each other, compressing each other, struggling to realize that they are really champions of the world.

 

It's extraordinary!

 

As he screams with Varane, a normally curly head jumps around his neck. Despite the surprise and the rain, he also hugs him and turns him around before resting him. Benji offers him his best blushing smile while still holding his jersey. Ben puts his hand on his cheek and if Presnel hadn’t intervened, he isn’t sure what he would have done.

 

Yeah, maybe he would have kissed him.

 

×××

 

"Ben, are you sleeping?"

 

They are back in Clairefontaine to prepare the game against Germany. Truth to be told, it's a friendly game _and_ it's the recovery, so they don’t spill too much training. Ben was sleeping quietly when a whisper and a jolt woke him up. Pretty soon, he opens his eyes to recognize the face surrounded by brown curls.

 

"Two? What are you doing here?"

"I went to bed early yesterday, I can't sleep anymore..."

 

Ben rubs his eyelids, before extending his arm to his bedside lamp he turns on. Benji looks at him with puppy eyes, sorry to wake him up, but he smiles at him to reassure him. As soon as he knew about his sleeping 'problems', Ben told him to come to his room instead of wandering around like a ghost to play together. If the curly boy had trouble at the beginning, he quickly took his ease in his space.

 

"Have you picked up the switch?"

"I had forgotten it here yesterday..."

 

By yesterday, you have to understand that since the first day that Benji left his console in Mendy's room, he didn't get it back. It's a habit they've taken during the world cup, too.

 

"Start to play, I'll join you."

"Okay."

 

Ben watches him settle on his bed and turn on the console by leaning against the second available pillow. He yawns, then gets closer to him, not really in the mood to play but more to watch him do.

 

After about ten minutes, he laughs:

 

"I knew you were bad at it, but now you beat records."

"Try to do better, smart ass."

 

Ben gets the console, stands up against the headboard to be comfortable, then continues the fight already started. Benji leans his head against his shoulder to get a better view of the game. They spent so much time together during the World Cup that they used to touch each other all the time.

 

(Yeah, it more happened like this:

 

“Ben, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah, go ahead.”

“Does Presnel pick you up?”

“No, he's with Julian Draxler, I think. Or he’s in love with him, I dunno.”

“Okay, it was just to know.”

“Okay.”

“Actually, he’s hyper tactile, doesn’t it bother you?”

“Why would it bother me, Benji?”

“You hate the contacts.”

“Hahaha not at all, who told you that?”

“ _You_ , you never touch anyone!”

“It's not because I don’t touch you guys, that it bothers me to be touched. I don’t care, you saw it with Kim.”

“Okay. I'm not jealous or what, huh.”

“ _Jeff_.”

“What?”

“You are losing.”

“Oh shit, you really are a cheater!”

 

As soon as the slightest opportunity presents itself, Benji began spreading or sticking on him.)

 

 

After a few minutes of play, Benji opens his mouth:

 

"Actually, you're very scary because you're big and you don’t smile that much but in truth you're harmless. Shark suits you.”

 

Ben laughs at this remark; it was Aymeric Laporte and his lack of tact that taught him that and Letoy Sane burst out laughing that day (this traitor).

 

“Oh yeah?”

"Yes, it's crazy. At first, when we don’t know you and there is no music, you don’t look friendly. Then as you are often with Presnel, I thought I had missed something: how can such an extrovert guy get along so well with mister stoic?”

“Two, breaking news: _Presnel Kimpembe gets along with everybody._ ”

"True," he laughs.

 

With the fight over, Ben continues to play, humming, while slowly slipping into bed with Benji against his shoulder. They don’t talk too much, but the warm, slow, pleasant breath against his neck makes the corner of his lips goes up. It's familiar, habitual and maybe it's one of the things he missed after the world cup. Benji's stifling body heat, his hair tickling his skin, his hand resting against his arm with a false inattention, his body almost trying to mix with his, his big brown eyes that sometimes observe him as if he possessed the truths of the world...

 

Mendy turns his head to the younger after saving to see that little Pavard has fallen back to sleep. A heat is diffused in his belly when he sees it, because it’s also a habit that they have taken; apparently, Pavard just cannot get back to sleep once he wakes up, except with him.

 

His innocent and youthful face is red because of tiredness. Benji is so close, he would have to stoop to reduce the distance between their lips...

 

Ben turns off the console and the bedside lamp as best he can, before going back to sleep.

 

His last thought is for Benjamin, maybe his type is the stop sigh heads.

 

×××

 

+1

 

The match against Germany will start and Mendy feels bad. By his side, as always, stands Presnel who sulks more than anything else. Apparently, he didn’t have the opportunity to skype Julian during the week and it depresses him. Recently, he isn’t as jovial as usual; something is wrong.

 

An uneasy feeling and deep questioning eat the perky Kim and Ben would like to do anything to get him out of there, but even Lucas hasn’t managed to drag it out of him. Folded on himself and looking at the other replacements of the other team, he keeps a very disturbing silence.

 

“Kim, are you ok?”

“Yes.”

 

Cold, no development, no complicit glances... Mendy really fears the worst for the one he considers his little brother.

 

“What is it?”

“Nothing. I am happy to be a bench warmer. I love to put my ass on a chair from beginning to end, it's exhilarating.”

“Bro don’t say that,” Ousmane replies next to Kim. “We will play today.”

 

Presnel laughs loudly, but that doesn’t sound like his happy and communicative laugh, it's bitter and painful. He doesn’t look at them, his attention fixed on the players on the ground.

 

"You two, maybe. Me? I will keep your seats warm, nothing else.”

 

While Dembélé wants to open his mouth, Mendy gives him a meaningful look to dissuade him. When the forwards sighs and looks away, the defender sighs, before pressing his shoulder against his younger brother.

 

“C’m’on, it'll be fine.”

 

Presnel doesn’t answer anything.

 

He totally understands him. The urge to play with his comrades, the sense of futility growing after each minute spent seated, the questioning after a defeat, the doubts when the team wins without their participation... All these things turn constantly in their mind after a game.

 

Mendy teams up with Hernández, and they more often exchange during games than Presnel and Samuel. Even if he jokes about it often and asks him to defend well for two, Ben knows that Kimpembe is dying to play in his place.

 

This situation annoys him as if it touched him personally.

 

When the whistle starts the game, Kimpembe's managed to contaminate everyone with his bad mood; fantastic. Ben has a bad feeling: for sure they aren’t going to win, they haven’t taken the training seriously enough for that, they just don’t want to lose; Areola has better play good.

 

Ben isn’t calm, it's going to be a shitty game. The weather is horrible, the air is electric, they aren’t in it.

 

His bowels turn when the German attack goes up the pitch to get close to the goals. Something's wrong, Ben isn’t confident when little Pavard approaches Rudiger to stop him. The world becomes deaf when he sees him slide to make a clean tackle, while the German continues his race and _crushes his throat_.

 

Mendy is on his feet without being aware of it, he has to go check on Benjamin, see what he has, in what state he is, he... he... what... Benjamin. Benjamin. _Benjamin_.

 

"Ben, stay here!"

 

Presnel holds him back by pulling his arm and forcing him to look at him deep in his eyes, but Mendy is attracted by what's happening on the pitch. _He has to go and see Benjamin_ , his little Benji, his favorite Two, his namesake, his brother...

 

"Persko, fuck!"

"No Ben, look at me.”

 

Reluctantly, he finally put his pupils in his, black with anger, bitterness and shock. How did Rudiger go for it?

 

"The care team takes care of him, okay? Don’t expose yourself so foolishly, understood?"

"I…"

"We are all in the same state as you, we understand you, okay? Tell yourself that if he doesn't go out, it's  _nothing_."

"Kim..."

"Okay?"

 

Kim's eyes are serious and indescribable, he's not kidding at all. Despite his hesitation, he nods and sits down with his teammate on the sideline. Shit, he must know how he's doing, it's unbearable.

 

What are they doing to him? Ben would have liked playing in Lucas' place for this game, and from the stands he cannot do anything. It's unbearable, he cannot even go to cheer him up and help him in this painful ordeal. Shit, he's never felt so helpless in his life.

 

The other players move away to leave Benjamin still lying on the ground and the air is unbreathable. The situation is unreal, how could it happen?

 

 _Benjamin gets up_. Ben holds his breath when he sees him stagger, unable to see the expression of his face because of the distance; does he suffer, hardly breathe, will he continue? The game continues with a corner, but Mendy isn’t focused on that.

 

The doctors still talk a little with Benji, before allowing him to return to the pitch. Despite a relieved sigh, a weight still crushes his stomach and a ball prevents him from swallowing properly. He would give everything to go see him. Didier doesn’t seem motivated to replace him with Djibril and more...

 

He can’t wait for the first half to end.

 

After the most stressful forty-five minutes on a damn pitch, they can all return to the locker room. Mendy is impatient, waiting anxiously for the number 2 to come in, but it doesn’t happen. Where is he? Why does it take so much time?

 

“Lucas, didn’t you come with Benji?”

"No,” the defender responds trying to rest. "I think he went to the doctors for his neck."

 

All right, so that's where he'll go. Mendy stands up to leave the locker room, but obviously someone has noticed him and arrives quickly to hold him back.

 

"Ben, let it go."

"Seriously, Paul..."

" _Seriously Ben_ , rather. He's fine, calm down. This is the first time I see you so stress, it rubs on others, chill Shark."

 

They are so close together in their team and so close to each other that emotions move from one person to the rest of the group at great speed. If someone is euphoric, the others will follow by mimicry. When the calmer begin to lose their temper, even those who don’t make waves, their anxiety quickly goes around.

 

Mendy is supposed to be temperate, it's not so much for him to be all fired up for something and to be so impatient. He can wait until the end of the match to check that everything is fine, for now we must take care of those who need help.

 

He sweeps his teammates quickly: some discreetly observe their exchange, frowning or curious.

 

"You're right," he finally recognizes.

"Yeah, as usual, nothing new."

 

Paul lets him go, before returning to Antoine. As for him, he will sit on the side of the defenders to take the temperature and put them in a good state of mind, even if the heart isn’t a second.

 

The game keeps going and Benjamin returns to the pitch without looking at him, head down. What does he have?

 

"You think Julian will play?"

"Pres' I don't give a fucking fuck, I couldn't care less right now."

 

His unnaturally mean and cold tone silences Ousmane by his side, who glares at him, then bends to look at Presnel, and slaps him in the arm. As he complains, he gives him a second blow and shows him the other defender.

 

Damn. Presnel is so happy and noisy that he sometimes forgets that this boy is an emotional sponge. He has a pretty impressive ability to absorb the negative feelings of people around him, but struggles to get rid of them. Talking about Julian seems to allow him to discharge a little.

 

And he had to say that.

 

"Presko..."

"I'm not going to melt, don’t worry, I understand that you're upset with what happened to Benji."

 

Presnel may not blame him, but he's in a bad mood now. It's like a big, heavy cloud waiting to break free with a huge storm; it will make noise sooner or later.

 

Shit.

 

How is he supposed to go well when his brother picks up all the negative waves he emits without his knowledge? The situation on the sidelines really cannot be worse.

 

Ten minutes after the restart, Ousmane begins to warm up while the two of them remain on the sidelines. Presnel says nothing, but the anger in his eyes doesn’t fool anyone. When Nabil also gets up to warm up, Mendy knows the storm is coming soon.

 

Benjamin continues the game as best he can without glancing at them, focused on the game against former world champions. They couldn’t fall on the worst team in the Nations League, zero was a good score against them.

 

The final whistle sounds and lightning is going to fall: Presnel is irritable. They haven’t won, haven’t shown anything extraordinary and Ben’s only one desire is to run to Pavard to check his condition. But they cannot, why? Oh, nothing more banal, they made a _pari Giroud_ (to know if Olivier would score a goal, if not, they stay running with him) whose physical trainer has heard and makes sure that they stick to it. It's ridiculous, they didn’t even play, why should they do a scrub running?

 

“I'm not running,” Presnel refuses, ready to go back to the locker room.

“Come on guys,” Adil motivates them with a big smile and clapping his hands.

 

Ben has no desire to do it, why is he obliged? Stupid bet.

 

“You stay in team, you can’t let Olivier run alone,” the trainer adds.

“No I'm lazy and it's pointless,” Presnel insists.

“Bro this is the game,” Djibril replies. “Come on, let's go."

"No, not a chance, it’s a pain in my ass."

 

The voices rise again between Kimpembe and the preparer, so Ben intervenes by pushing him to follow the group without saying anything. If he verbally opposes Presnel, it will oppress him and rob him; on the other hand, inciting him to do what he doesn’t want without saying anything...

 

Ben doesn’t really listen to what they say, but one sentence is enough to detonate Presnel:

 

"Fuck is he serious? Repeat what you said douchebag!"

 

Mendy holds him by the waist, staying between them to prevent the defender from responding more. Olivier joins him to help him manage his case; the lightning has fallen...

 

Running allows him to forget and empty his head. He feels the energy of the previously played match, the passion and the fight, Ben would have liked to be with them. Cameras and fans are still present, he recognizes the celebrities who make the debrief for France.

 

Damn, what should they think of seeing the substitutes run? It doesn’t make any sense. This is the last time he bet on Oli for _pari Giroud_ ; for the game France Netherlands, Olivier can forget his vote.

 

Once they finish and are walking towards the corridor to leave the pitch, Benjamin turns his head towards his younger friend, worried by his silence. No music, no jokes, no Julian pining? Presnel is clearly sick.

 

"Kim, are you okay?"

"What do you think?"

 

It means everything, he will try another approach:

 

"You know you're still in mold-dick?"

"I love this shorts, they put my assets in value, and you’ll never convince me otherwise. Joking aside, did you hear what the other asshole said earlier?”

 

He shrugs his shoulders shaking his head: he really wasn't paying attention.

 

"That running would do us good, it was the only sport of bench warmers."

 

Damn, of course he's lost his temper, that's the only thing that gets him out of there. The whole team and the staff know it's a sensitive subject, that he lives badly to do so few games, it was really petty. Between them, they often joke about it, but it's still a sensitive subject.

 

"Hey... You know he was joking."

"I know, but do you realize what that means? I couldn’t be there it would have the same effect. I've got the feeling of being useless in this team, why did I come... Even when I was in Congolese team, it didn't happen like that and there I... I... It's..."

 

Mendy raises his head when he hears him gasp and lose his words, to see his eyes shine with tears. Without asking any questions, he puts an arm over his shoulders and presses his temple against the top of his head. The storm broke and the rain will be bad...

 

If others notice his condition, they leave them space without getting involved. Ben cannot do anything to comfort him, he understands him and that's enough for him. This isn’t the first time, it will not be the last. Playing for the national team by replacing can be enormously frustrated for a long time.

 

Ben understands.

 

The others greet someone down the hall. He looks up without taking his head off and thinks he recognizes Julian Draxler; what is he doing here?

 

"Kim, look up..."

 

Mendy whispers softly to him. Through his foggy eyes and his hands that erase the tears, Presnel immediately recognizes the figure and runs off to jump on him.

 

Ben smiled at the sight of their embrace despite the distress of the defender. Slowly, he approaches them, surprised by the strength with which Presnel clings to the German and by the obvious affection that Julian feels towards the Frenchman.

 

Once he reaches their level, the mildfieler offers him a poor smile, clearly affected by the defender's tears and pain.

 

"What's happened?" He asks in excellent French.

 

Mendy shrugs, falsely indifferent, then rubs his hand over Presnel's head.

 

"You can guess, you played as much as us."

 

The understanding brightens in his eyes, while his arms tighten around the trembling body harder.

 

"Take care of him, will you?"

 

After a blink, he gives them all the privacy they need, away from the cameras.

 

Arrived in the locker room, he notices the proximity between Antoine and Paul; or rather the absence of distance, as if they _needed_ to be so close, that’s insane. Almost everyone is there except Benji, where is he? Certainly talking to the press...

 

His towel and body washer in hand, the defender takes the direction of the showers in the usual hubbub and music played on Paul’s speaker. Where can Benjamin be? He never stays out of his sight for long...  

 

Suddenly, Ben feels himself tilted back, pulled by a strong and hot grip. When he hits the wood of a shower stall and his big brown eyes dart into his, his heart slows down and accelerates at the same time, unable to determine what he must do when he faces this offensive defender.

 

"Benjamin...," the younger starts.

 

Ben doesn’t answer and directly raises his left hand on his bruised and red throat. The two red marks are bigger than he had imagined, but it's not as bad as he thought; visibly, worry has derailed him. In any case, he doesn’t like what he sees, he doesn’t like it and he would have liked to be in his place because Benji didn’t deserve that.

 

No doubt that if he had played the score would not have changed, but at least the injury would not have been so visible and disturbing. Nobody would have complained or noticed a few days later.

 

"It's ugly," he whispers.

"Yeah, I know...," Pavard says. "I'm sorry for the game, I completely ignored you. I knew that if I got close to you, I... I was..."

 

Without hesitation Ben lowers his head and makes their lips meet. Benji doesn’t step back, approaches him, wrapping his arms around his neck, touching him as much as possible. Laughing, heart still restless and ants under the skin, Mendy mives to look him straight in the eyes. Pavard's face is red, his curly hair sticks to his head and his brown eyes sparkle with a thousand fires.

 

"The red isn’t too bad on you,” he jokes. “Except this mark, it's disgusting."

"Does the hickey-red suit me as well?"

 

Ben chuckles, pleasantly surprised by Benji's split, who has also pressed his hands against the stall, on both sides of his head; fierier than he imagined.

 

"Yeah, we can try to find this out."

"So... do you like stop sign head?"

"No. But you, on the other hand... it’s true that you aren’t so bad."

 

Benji chuckles, his face just as red as a stop sign, then Ben kisses him again. No doubt: he could spend hours kissing him and more.

**Author's Note:**

> Sorry for my mistakes! I hope you still enjoyed it :)


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